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k9wa · 1 month

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𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable.

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin.

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’”

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely– i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings.

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.”

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing.

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them.

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up— his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?”

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…”

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out. “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?”

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move.

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.”

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received.

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers.

his own dream, now his downfall.

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl.

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#i have a few leaks and drip marketing and thats it #but idc thats enough hes everything #boothill #boothill x reader #honkai star rail #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x you #boothill headcanons #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr boothill #also #i know his synaesthesia beacon replaces the phrase and not only the word #im just not writing all that #UNEARTHLY

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winterarmyy · 10 months

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Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part III

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 5.2k++ (sorry y'all)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, fluffy stuff, tiny sprinkle of angst, soldat is heartbreakingly adorable until the very end, bucky not being very communicative, self-loathing, confusion, conflicted feelings between guilt and need, two idiots in love who are lost in a miscommunication, excessive use of the word 'fuck', and... what else? I'm not sure either lol.

P/S: This has been truly a journey. Thank you so much for the support y'all have been giving me. I really do appreciate all the comments and dms about my work regardless which one of them. Just wanna remind you that I won't be here without you; that's the degree of importance that you possess. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It's only been eight in the morning and the soldat had Y/N trapped between his arms as she focused on sifting the flour for the pancake batter. There were barely any space between them; not when he made sure that her soft plushy butt rests right against his crotch, while his fingers subtly move along her hips.

Those gentle trailings didn't last too long for comfort as he slipped his left hand under her sweatshirt. The soldat let his instinct took control as the metal of his touch draws invisible circles all across her bare stomach, while his lips peppered endless amount of butterfly kisses on the marks from last night; each one was now hidden under layers of color correcter and concealer.

"Wow." A raw sound of astonisment naturally slipped from Sam's lips as he found himself frozen in his spot at the corridor leading to the entrance of the kitchen.

Look at them. Acting like newlyweds on their honeymoon.

For a moment he forgot that the huge cuddly hunk in front of him was the winter soldier and not his fellow comrade.

But then again, it might as well made sense that it was not the Bucky he knew, because that man would've been a puddle of mess if he got the chance to touch Y/N like this.

Sam still remember that night when they had a Harry Potter movie marathon and Y/N ended up falling asleep on Bucky's shoulder. Even in the room that was scarce from light, Sam could clearly see the redness on Bucky's cheeks and ears.

It was an understatement to say that Sam had the best time of his life teasing the shit out of Bucky that night, knowing he can't do anything about it without waking Y/N from her comfy slumber.

"Soldat, please. I need to move around, you know?" Y/N's amused giggle pulled the soldat from his dreamy trance.

He shakes his head in the crook of her neck, snuggling deeper as he took a deep breath of her sweet scent, "No, you don't. You just need to stay here." The soldat huffed as he pouted and tighten his hold on her.

Y/N chuckled at his child-like antics, "You do know that you're not gonna get any breakfast any time soon if you keep doing this, right?"

Sometimes, she couldn't help but wondered if this is how it would feel like to have Bucky doting on her.

"Родная (darling), I'll gladly have you for breakfast. I'm sure I'd have a feast on that sweet little pussy of yours." He whispered seductively into her ears, as he sensed Sam's presence approaching the kitchen.

Y/N briefly fluttered her eyes shut as he purred in her ears, before slightly peel herself off from him, "Soldat." Her voice was stern and her eyes narrowed into a frown.

The soldat gaze down at her with a hazy grin on his lips, "Родная (darling)."

Unknowingly, the one-sided glaring battle began when Y/N refused to break their intense eye contact; each opponent uses a very contrasting approach, where one has a deep frown and a pair of blazing eyes while the other has the softest, droopy stare and literal hearts in his steel blues.

"Move." Y/N instructed as if it was a warning.

The brunnette let out a defeated laugh as he loosen his hold on her, "Okay, okay. Anything for you, sweet one."

"Thank you." She sighed. "Finally" she thought. She was worried that they gonna have breakfast for lunch if he refuses to let her go.

On the other hand, the soldat was unable to sit still on his own, so he continue to follow her around, like a hungry cat rubbing their forehead up their human's leg, mewling for attention.

"Morning, y/n and... her shadow." Sam finally make himself known as he greeted while naturally went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Sam." she greeted back while the soldat swiftly put himself in between them like a barrier. He shot a menancing glare at Sam as the man was standing 'too close to Y/N' for the soldat's comfort.

Obviously offended, "Dude, calm down. I was just greeting her good morning." His voice raised as he defended himself for his rights, "Tell him y/n" he continued to tattle tail.

In which Y/N responded by patting the back of the soldat's shoulder as a reassurance before asking him to move away.

Let's just say that he begrudgingly agreed to just because it was Y/N's request.

"Unbeliveable." Sam rolled his eyes, "This your friend?" He asked as Steve entered the scene, greeting everyone a good morning before he quirked, "What?"

"Look at him." Sam accusingly pointed as the soldat, "He's hogging y/n." He continued to explain while purposely reach his hand to touch her. The soldat wordlessly pulled her away before he could reach any further, "See?" Sam pointed again.

Steve didn't defend anyone this time as he only laughed it off before finding his seat. His eyes sparkled with delight to the amount of pancake made by Y/N and the multiple choice of topping and sides; from the sickening sweet stuff to the oddly savoury ones.

He glanced over at his best friend, who was unsubtly trying to hog Y/N away from Sam and his baby blues soften as he thought maybe Shuri was right. Maybe Bucky was always present somewhere in this soldat's persona.

It was such a typical Bucky behaviour to be possessive as the soldat was being. Steve noticed that Bucky would always get a bit agitated when someone touch his girl, even if he doesn't actively show it as much. In the 40's he might've been able to hide it behind his charming smile and witty jokes, but nowdays anyone can see it on his ever-present frown and unintelligible grunts.

That applies for both Bucky and the soldat.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam as she pulled the soldat by the hand, "Ignore him, soldat. Now, come have breakfast with me." She sat him on one of the stool by the kitchen isle as she prepared his plate.

Perplexed by the lack response, Sam admitted his defeat for once and joined the isle to have his bite of the morning.

As soon as she settled on her own seat next to him, the soldat took her hand into his, briefly kissing her the back of it. "Thank you, darling." He whispered before placing their locked hands on his lap as they ate, casually rubbing his thumb on her for comfort.

If you thought Y/N was the only one who was blushing at the domestic show of affection, well you'd think again when you see the shade of red on the tip of his ears or the way Sam purposely looked away.

The morning went by with mostly three of them having a pleasant conversation and the soldat silently distract himself by playing with her hand, apparently enthralled by the size difference and how fragile looking hers was.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team came by the kitchen on their own time since some of them prefer to sleep off the pain from the previous mission.

Half an hour later, she felt as if she was caught in a dejavu when she found herself in the same position as before. She laughed softly as she washed dishes, while the soldat stuck himself to her like a oversize koala to a tiny tree.

"I smell pancakes." Tony spoke as he made a bee line towards the kitchen, looking like he just survived a bio hazard in the lab.

"I made extra. Help yourself." Y/N announced, not even trying to look back at them, especially when the soldat had her trapped in his tight embrace.

Tony peeked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, "Did you see her? I didn't even know she was here until she spoke." He asked, though he sounded more like he was teasing her.

Before Tony could reach out for his plate, Shuri stormed to the kitchen, catching everyone's attention, "Pancakes can wait, Tony." She stopped him which only cause him to whine dramatically.

It felt as if Y/N's heart completely dropped out of her body when Shuri nodded knowingly, "It's time."

There was a quick briefing of the process with everyone involved while they prep the soldat in the other side of the glassed section of the lab. Y/N tried to focus on watching the simple simulation video that was prepared by Tony.

And she heard every single words of Shuri's but all she could think was if the soldat knew what they were doing. If he felt like he was being thrown, being disposed of like some kind of object.

By the time they the explanation ended, Y/N didn't think twice as she marched towards the soldat. The team didn't questioned her motive as they can see the determination in her eyes.

She stopped on her tracks, right at the entrance when a thought ran across her mind.

Of course, she wanted Bucky back but why does this feel so wrong?

"How are you feeling, soldat?" She prompted as she walked over to him, passing the lab employee who scurried away leaving the couple to have some privacy.

The soldat brightened in her presence as he reached out to her with grabby hands, triggering a soft giggle from Y/N. She let her hands gravitate towards his, intertwining her fingers in his hold as he replied, "Much better now." He sighed in contentment the moment he felt her skin against his own.

There was a comforting silence in the room, but Y/N's mind was the complete opposite. There was only chaos of questions that felt so sinful and immoral to utter out loud.

The soldat grip tightens with tenderness, as if he could hear the loud havoc in her head. Moments later, he decided to break the silence with an honest confession.

"I know that I'm not welcomed here." He glanced at the other side of the glass, watching the team pacing around. "I know that you're trying to get rid of me." His ocean blues changed its tides to gaze up at her; the smile on his lips was soft and pure.

"You know, I have been many things in this life..." the soldat looked down where his hands were entangled with hers, "...a killer, a weapon, a monster, you name it." there was a hint of grudge in his voice but mostly it was woven with regret.

"But, worst of all, I have been a thief." It felt as if he has been holding his breath as he avowed.

"I have stolen decades worth of his life, robbed him of his freedom for so many years, every single happiness and hope he could ever experienced had been stripped away right before his eyes," the soldat chuckled ironically before looking up to meet her teary eyes, "...yet I'm still greedy for more days with you."

Y/N found herself unable to speak, afraid that her words would do nothing to coax him; or maybe she just couldn't trust that her voice won't crack in the middle of her sentence especially when she was damn sure that her heart was already cracking for him.

The soldat's eyes softens when he reached his hand to her face, "I never knew that I was capable to feel these futile emotions such as joy and love, until I felt it when he looks at you." Y/N didn't even notice she was crying until he wiped them away with the gentle caresses of his thumb.

"Everything I felt towards you were his to begin with." He confessed as he felt the guilt of stealing yet another precious thing from him again, "That's why, I don't deserve this." The said as he recalled every moment he got to spend with her, "I don't deserve you."

The soldat knows that very well, but that didn't stop the natural curiosity that resides from within him, "And I can't help but to wonder..." he hesitated as he tried to construct the most raw and truthful question to sum up whatever this emotion he was currently feeling.

"Will you remember me?" His voice was small and quiet, almost afraid of the answer that might come his way.

More tears were spilling out as she unhesitantly replied, "How could I not?" Her hands raised to his face, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her palms.

The soldat's eyes sightly wobbled when he asked again, "Will you miss me?" At that time, he didn't know that the feeling he felt was called 'heartache', yet he was handling it like he had been experiencing it all his life.

Y/N leaned as she pressed the most tender kiss on his forehead, "More than you know." Her answer made the soldat smile as he purred in her hold.

He peeled one away from his face and pressed a kiss of his own on the delicate palm of her hand. The same ones that had showed him nothing but so much love and kindness.

When Shuri came into the scene, they know it was time to say goodbye. But, both refused to say anything remotely close to it. So, they wordlessly walked out towards the cylinder shaped glass pod, located right in the middle of the lab.

Until the very end, Y/N stood by his side as he lay on the tight space of the pod. And just as the door was about the close, the soldat smiled lovingly at his precious person, as he called for her nickname one last time.

"So long, Родная (darling)."

Three weeks later. At Avenger's private gym.

Steve re-adjusted his stance as he took cautious step backwards, "Why are you avoiding her?" He asked straightforwardly.

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he lunged forward for a strike, "What are you talking about?" He missed when Steve easily swerved away and countered back, "Don't play dumb, Buck. I'm not in a mood for that."

The brunette blocked his punch with his left forearm but Steve uses that as an opportunity to grab him and pushed him on the floor. Bucky groaned as he landed flat on his chest, left hand on his back.

"Well, I'm not in a mood to talk about it either." He growled as he swing his leg backwards, toppling Steve on his back and pushed his metal arm against his neck, choking him out of his breath, "So, drop it." He warned.

Steve tapped the floor as a sign of defeat and Bucky released his hold while retreat his arm away. Both of them was out of breath but for entirely different reason; Steve was literally choked, so that's fair, but Bucky was breathing heavily as soon as Y/N stepped into the gym.

He stood there with an intense frown on his face, glaring at the woman of his dreams. Literal dreams, or memories of the soldat that was left behind for Bucky after what happened with the winter soldier situation.

Thankfully the method worked, Shuri and Tony managed to bring Bucky back but just like before, he don't have any clear recollection what happened.

While Y/N made the team swore to never speak to Bucky about what he did when he relapsed, while Bucky himself also hides the fact that, much like his previous experience where the memories comes in a form of unsightly nightmares, his memories of those few days were also coming back in a form of dreams.

Though they were never linear. There was no way of knowing the actual flow of his memories.

It came more like snippets of certain moments, sometimes repetitive, sometimes glitchy but they were mostly such good dreams, beautiful even, however they didn't last very long.

At least, not according to Bucky.

Y/N stopped on her tracks as she saw Bucky, who blatantly throwing daggers at her through his eyes. She didn't know why but she didn't want to think of the worst, so she went towards him in hopes of proving her own mind that the negative instincts that she had was wrong.

But the moment she got close, "Hi Buck--" Bucky walked passed her as if she wasn't there in the first place. And she had to admit that, that shit was painful to go through.

And he had been acting like this for two weeks now. Avoiding her like a fucking plague. And she doesn't know why.

He was acting normal during the first week of his awakening, or maybe a little bit more reserved that he usually would be.

She doesn't know how else to explain it but he seemed to act really shy whenever Y/N accidently touched him.

Did someone told him about what happened? Is that why he's mad? She doesn't get it, and she wants to know why.

So before Bucky managed to walk further pass her, Y/N turned on her heels and tugged him by his right arm to stop him. Little did she knew, that might just be the one thing she shouldn't do.

It was like a pre-programmed reaction, when Bucky's body move on his own, as he harshly ripped himself from her grasps, almost dropping her to the ground.

Steve was second away from reaching out to catch her but luckily she found her balance back on her own.

Bucky leered down at her as he spoke, "Don't touch me." His voice came out much more venomous than he intended, making Y/N flinched to his command.

But if that what he needs to do to chase her away from him then so be it, "Just stay the fuck away from me." Bucky spat a cold warning before marching his way out.

Not only leaving Y/N in utter confusion, but with her heart torn to bled dry.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

"Don't." she whispered quietly.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, ripping him out of the distorted memories only to leave him gasping in the darkness. He woke up swimming in his bed, drowning in the flood of sheets with his heart pounding as if it was desperate to tear out of his chest.

He looked around suspiciously as if he didn't recognized his own room, until strain of his crotch distracted him. His eyes pried downwards to see his cock struggling to fit in his pants and the images of his lucid dream flashes again.

Bucky shuts his eyes tightly, hoping the torture would stop reminding him of his sins, "You sick fuck." A deep frown formed as he muttered curses to himself.

After hours and hours of free falling tears in her room, letting herself drown in a sorrow that she never knew she would ever experience, she let herself wonder back to those lovely moments of her with the soldat.

She found it ironic that somehow the memories of his touch was also the cure to the wounds left by cruelty of his words.

It's hours passed midnight and her tears finally stopped, at least until her body was able physically form more tears in her glands, she took the time as a chance for her to rest.

Y/N laid on her back, letting the remaining tears to fall into her ears.

Worst part of all of this was not knowing why, and being left in the dark, yet he managed to effortlessly left her heart broken into shatters.

"Don't touch me."

"Just stay the fuck away from me."

Bucky's words had been circling her mind like a raging tornado. It felt like the spitefulness of his voice was mocking the flaws of her fragmented heart, toying with what's left behind after the storm.

Y/N didn't even realized when did she started to make her way towards the kitchen, but it was as if her body knew its own limit when her feet walked her out of the confinement of her room and her mind remind her to hydrate herself.

As she entered the kitchen area, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky standing in the middle of it, leaning forward towards the counter tops.

Even with the little source of light from the corridor, Y/N could see the tiredness in his face as he stare blankly into nothing. But, his expression soon changed when he saw her.

She didn't know what she had done to make him so agitated whenever he laid his eyes on her.

The silence between them was so loud that Y/N couldn't help but to approach him.

"I..." She truly didn't know what to say but it felt like it was her fault. She did take advantage of him when the soldat took over; endless use of his body, hands, lips and not to mention what happened that night. "I'm sorry."

Bucky was truly appalled to her words, even though he didn't show it on his expression. Why does she had to apologize to him when he was clearly the problem, "Why are you apologizing?" his anger naturally slipped through as he spoke.

But Y/N didn't know that he was frustrated at himself, and not at her, so the tone that he used stung her as much as it did prior, "I don't know." She simply said.

Lies.

She knew exactly why apologized but she wasn't sure if Bucky knew what happened when he blacked-out. "I just... I don't want to stay away from you. I don't like it."

She can't; not when her yearning for him had grew stronger than ever before.

"Well, you better get used to it because it won't change any time soon." Bucky spat harshly.

Y/N felt her own rage started to bubble from within.

Why is he being so hot-headed and stubborn like a sulking child? Can't he just act like a fucking adult and talk it out?

Her brows crunched into a frown as she held back her tone, "Why?"

Bucky let out a frustrated as he tried to walk away, shooting a demanding glare as he was passing her, "Just do as you're told, y/n"

"Oh no, you're not gonna run away from this."

She grabbed him by his arms and pulled him back into the conversation. "That's not fair, Bucky."

"Not fair?" His eyes narrowed, as he looked down at the smaller.

She puffed out an angry breath as she glared up, "No, it is not fair! It's not entirely your choice to make." She can feel the flames started to spread, "Especially when you refused to tell me why." She yelled accusingly as she shoved her finger to his chest.

Blood roaring in Bucky's ears as his heart pounded hard, pouring the concealed frustration out like a broken dam as he explodes, "He almost raped you, y/n!!"

There was a few milliseconds of non-movements as both them let those few words sink into their processing brain, "I... almost raped you." His voice shook in both anguish and anger, leaving Y/N frozen in a speechless shock.

"Or maybe I already did and I don't even fucking remember." His hands roughly tugged his long hair back as if he tried to go through the pieces of shattered memories in his wrecked mind.

"And if that is not a fucking sign for you stay away from me, I don't know what else I should do to make you see that." Bucky was breathing heavily that his breaths echoed through the silenced space.

Y/N's mind was running wild as everything slowly clicked. Did he thought that he... No. She blinked several times before she could form actual words, "Bucky, what are you saying? It's okay, it's okay. Just please calm down first and--" she tried to reach for him but that only made Bucky retorted, physically and mentally.

"It's okay? No, it's fucking not. Are you even listening to yourself? Can't you see? I'm dangerous y/n." He sounded as desperate as he was for air. "Especially to you. And if my messed up past was not enough to prove it, then what happened between us when I relapsed certainly did."

His heart rate increase rapidly, and his lungs seemed to work double time. Yet, he refused to let her see how badly he needed comfort.

"Bucky, please breathe. And just.. listen to me--" Y/N was hopeless trying to pull him out of the chaos of his mind but he just wouldn't listen.

Bucky's voice started to waver as the dark revelation continued to cloud him, "He assault you, y/n. I fucking assault you. And I can't let that happened again. So, just please, stay awa--"

"It was my choice!" Y/N snapped as she grabbed Bucky by his shoulder, forcing him to focus on her. "Bucky, I let him touch me. I could stop him if I want to, but I didn't."

Bucky didn't understand, "W-why?"

"Because I know he wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me." Y/N tried to lay it out for him slowly but then she realized that maybe he didn't need that right now.

"Fuck, Bucky! I'm not a saint." She cursed after a few short moments of hesitation, "I have a lot of feelings I need to deal with like every other human being. Lust, love, you name it. And he..."

In a brief moment, she thought of the soldat, "He gave me the opportunity to feel the love that I always wanted from you. He showed me what we could've been." There was a sense of longing in her eyes, "It started small, soft touches and loving kisses." She smiled to the memories of it.

"And the moment that I thought that it could've been you who's kissing me, touching me. I knew it was over." She didn't know how many times she almost slipped out his name whenever she calls for the soldat; the name 'Bucky' was always at the tip of her tongue but never out.

"One thing led to another and we... I didn't mean to let it stray too far." She confessed, "Bucky, I admit it was wrong for me to take advatange of you, of the soldat, and I know there's no excuse to my behaviour than my own inability to control my feelings for you."

If the soldat thought that he was being greedy, then that makes the two of them.

"I understand if you want me to stay away from you, but just let me say this out loud." Her hands slid down to find his, thankfully he didn't repulsed this time, "Bucky... I love you." She finally spilled the truth as her soften gaze trained on his eyes, "I have loved you for a long time."

Afraid that this could be the end, she refused to look away. She didn't care if Bucky would plunge daggers to her through his words, she want him to know that her feelings for him was unconditional.

And Bucky really tried his best to let all her words sink in, even though most of them were somehow redacted and lost in his head.

But, thankfully the most important ones was so loud and clear for him to draw a simple conclusion that would ease his relentless worries, "You...I.. I didn't force it on you?"

Y/N didn't know why she wasn't expecting him to believe her but she was glad that he did, "No" she replied simply.

Bucky's voice strangled while his hand gripping tighter in her hold, "I didn't hurt you?" His teary eyes pleaded for the truth.

"Not a even close." She smiled kindly.

Bucky felt as the unbearable burden on his shoulders was lifted off completely just by those few simple words that Y/N just uttered. The tears he was desperately holding back broke freely as they stream down his face, his shoulders trembled with the force of his emotions running through his veins.

He whispered, "You don't hate me for it?" He pulled her hands closer to his face, fluttering his eyes shut as he kissed the knuckles of her fingers.

"Never." Y/N reassured, as she cupped his face; stroking her thumbs on his scruffy cheeks, wiping the warm, salty tears away.

Bucky sighed to her touch, it seemed that his body remembered her more than his mind did, "And you love me?" He blinked as he placed his hand on top of her.

Y/N nodded with a loving curve on her lips, "Always have."

Bucky didn't know how she does it but she really did managed to mend and melt his heart all at the same time. It was magic. Or, maybe it was sorcery. But even if she ended up leaving a curse behind, Bucky would still be glad that he let her bewitched him.

Bucky stared down at her, admiring her the kindness in her eyes despite the swolleness of them. He felt bad for breaking her heart, making her cry. It tore his heart just thinking about it.

His tongue darted out for a brief second as his metal hand fell, wrapping around her body.

Y/N maintained to lock her eyes on his as her hand slid down, and pressed on his chest. Despite being comfortable with his touches, and with the amount of kisses the soldat had generously gave her, she shouldn't be nervous anymore but she was.

After all, the soldat never kisses her on the lips and Bucky had his eyes on hers since the beginning.

She wanted his too.

Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, Bucky leaned in to press a kiss on her lips, his flesh hand came up to tilt her chin up, then gently cupped her face as he pulled her closer.

Her lips was so soft against his, that Bucky was sure that he will crave to this every single day.

He briefly pulled away from the kiss to whisper a soft, "I love you too, y/n." Before coming down for another chaste, "More than you could ever fucking imagine." He almost growled as he dipped for more.

Their innocent kiss soon turned into something deeper. They kissed passionately, lost in the bubble of time and space, ignoring the silenced ambiance as they were fixated on the sound of their beating hearts.

And when they pulled away for air, Y/N giggled as a silly thought went through her mind, "Well, I kinda see the glimpse of it in those few days with the soldat, so I think I got the gist of it."

That caused Bucky to let out a genuinely hearty laugh before humming playfully, "Hmm, do you now?" He went in for another kiss, knowing full well that he was already addicted to the taste of her lips.

He just can't get enough of it.

Y/N answered briefly in between his kisses, "Yes."

Bucky smirked as he smoothly guided her backwards, until the back of her waist met with the cold tile of the kitchen isle, "Three times, was it?" his eyes glint with mischieve when he leaned again to steal another kiss.

"What is?" Y/N titled her head to the side, unknowingly giving access for Bucky to lead his kisses from her soft cheek down to her exposed neck.

His lips trailed along the crook of it as he whispered, "Was it three times that he made you cum?" If his goal was to seduce her; well it was safe to say that he did it rather flawlessly.

Y/N thanked god that the kitchen was dim-litted, because the redness on her cheek was rather embarrassing, "I-I'm not sure."

She lied. But, Bucky didn't need to know that.

Bucky chuckled lowly as he murmured, "It's okay, babydoll. We have all the time in the world to beat that record." his naughty hands had already made their way toward her ass before she even have the time to register what he suggested.

Lust decorated the blues in his eyes as he whispered, "Starting now."

End.

<< Part II || Extra >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Yeay, we have reached the end but I might have more of the couple in the future. Though I don't know when will it happen but I have hopes for it. Meanwhile, why don't you tell me what you think of the series and checkout my other work!

#winterarmyyfics #welcome home soldat au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier!bucky

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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 month

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slumber party!

Yandere friend group x fem!reader

Tw: none that I can think of, reader is mentioned to have a childhood author randomly thought of, you can change it in your mind if you like. Not proofread 🌺

⭐you grew up with your friends, having known eachother since diapers! Your parents often left you in a daycare since they were busy with their jobs, and that's how you met Cassidy. A bright and cheerful girl, capable of lighting up a room with her toothy smile. When she saw you crying in a corner, missing your parents, she hastily snatched a couple of crayons and rushed over. Sitting next to you and holding out a pudgy hand, offering the red crayon.

"hi! I'm Cassidy! But you can call me cassie.. what's your name?"

🛍️ skipping a few years, you and Cassidy were in first grade. Obsessing over my little pony and worms, when suddenly you came across Michelle. A prickly girl you've known since kindergarten, but she was always too stuck up and bossy to ever get along with anyone. She held out a chocolate with a furrowed brow, looking flustered as she moved from side to side, the way your choir teacher hated

"can.. may i.. play with you, please..?" You swore you could hear your homeroom teacher cheering in the background

🎀it was 4th grade, you, Michelle and cassidy were in that ripe age where all boys were Icky and gross and had all types of nasty cooties. The constant squabbling and booger picking you'd see from the aforementioned solidly confirmed it. You spotted the new girl, Vivian getting harassed by the class weirdo, some Asian fetishizer. So you bravely stood up, walked over.. and tripped on your untied shoe laces, landing face first into the carpeted floor. Viv gasped and quickly rushed over to you, making sure you were alright before letting out a soft giggle

"you should be more careful.. you're y/n right? You have a very lovely name"

💀 7th grade, the emo and dragon ball z kids were making themselves known. You were laying on the classroom floor, resting your head in Vivian's lap as Michelle dangled a vine of grapes Infront of your mouth. Giggling when you obediently opened and bit one off. The giggling stopped and you opened your eyes to see a hot topic magazine boy standing over you all.

"hey! You on the other girls lap! You're my girlfriend now." "...what."

After the boy almost got his shit rocked by your scarily protective friends, you Introduced yourself "y/n" "kiross.." the girls were glaring daggers at him

💕 9th grade, you were starting to see a pattern, a new member of your group joins every few years. So you were preparing yourself mentally, all while Talking and suddenly turning around to walk backwards. Not noticing the boy you were just about to bump into. Your friends quickly rushed forward to try and catch your ass, but it was no use. You fell straight into.. a soft body. The boy you fell ontop of blinked owlishly, before realizing it was you and giving a devilish grin. surprisingly he looked hotter than most guys in your class

"haha, looks like god answered my prayers to send me an angel, my name's Alexis. Nice to meet you"

🔪12th grade came, soon you'd be free from the hell hole known as public high school. You clinged and sobbed in Cassidy's arms, only 6 more months to go. Whining something about not having a boyfriend, ignoring how offended kaiross looked. You dramatically fell to your knees and held your hands clasped together towards the sky, yelling that you wanted a hot hunk and you wanted him right now... Only for an incredibly heavy object to land straight into your back. Sending you both to the ground as the thing made a grunt. Looking up, you damn near had a nosebleed to see the hottest man you've ever seen, daichio

"ah.. sorry pretty girl, you okay down there?" "yeah.. more than okay.." "alright break it up! No soliciting"

⭐after daichio joined, tensions rose in the little friend haven. Vivian and Michelle would squabble over anything involving you, daichio would purposely provoke kaiross to a fight, alexis would pick on Cassidy for always being so close to you. Until you finally had enough. Giving them the biggest tongue lashing they ever had as you yelled at them to be normal people for once and get along

🛍️...maybe it would have been better if they kept fighting, because now they were a hive mind. After secretly talking behind your back, Daichio and kaiross were like your guards dogs since they had the most muscle. Cassidy was your right hand, Alexis being your tutor. Vivian was your emotional support human, and Michelle was your fashion critic and healthy lifestyle planner. You didn't really mind since now they stopped being little bitches and you had free unpaid workers like Kim Kardashian

🎀you didn't even realize when your group suddenly started gathering attention. Becoming the most popular in the span of a few weeks, how? You didn't know. And quite frankly you didn't want to know. You just wanted a partner, good grades and a scholarship. Looks like your getting all three. People often crowded around your table or desk, trying to get all buddy buddy with you. Just for a little recognition. Your friends were docile until, well, the confessions came rolling in. But that's another story

Fun facts:

Cassidy goes by she/them and is a very friendly person. Naturally, people confess to her everyday but she only has eyes for you, bisexual!

Michelle's mom is a cop, and her dad a businessman so she comes from a somewhat well off family. She likes to go on shopping sprees and gives you any clothes she doesn't want, a lesbian in denial

Vivian is soft spoken and shy, wherever you are rest assured she's close behind, pansexual

kiross is inlove with you and it's very obvious, it's just that nobody brings it up, he goes by he/them and bisexual

Alexis is very demanding, you could consider him a female version of Michelle. Sometimes mich gives him any clothes she doesn't want, pansexual!

Daichio is a playboy and is good friends with kameron, he speaks English, japanese and currently learning Spanish, straight asshole. BORINGG

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little-red-hunk · 2 years

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I can’t believe I had to come home and sit down on my couch with my water and my candy bar and had to see OC eat a random fry from some child and then proceed to just get wrecked and how his chest was so motherfucking red and then his whole face was so motherfucking red and I’m just supposed to accept that?

I need an attorney. I’m entitled to financial compensation.

#orange cassidy #little red hunk #aew #aew rampage #all elite wrestling #best friends

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intoanotherworld23 · 16 days

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Peaches And Cream

Summary: Joel loves the taste of you, and you love being his favorite dessert

Warnings: explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Joel, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk

A/N: if anyone wishes to be added to my Pedro/or Joel tag list please let me know and I’ll be happy to add you. Heart, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and supportive. Thanks! XOXO

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Joel. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.

“I’ve never seen you cum so much sweetheart.” Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. “You did so good for me baby.”

That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn’t want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.

“Let me see those pretty eyes.” His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.

“Joel.” Whining his name as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.

“Whadda you need pretty girl?” He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.

Joel knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.

“Fuck me baby girl look at you.” Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That’s exactly what he did too.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

“Oh god.” Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Joel looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.

Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Joel could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.

“Tastes like peaches baby girl.” His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.

Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. Sex was always amazing with Joel, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.

“Fucked that pretty cunt so good, didn’t I?” His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Joel already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.

“So proud of you my sweet peach.” His nickname had you smiling as Joel pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state. “I’m not done with you yet though baby girl.”

#Pedro pascal #Joel miller #Pedro pascal x reader #Joel miller x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfic #Joel miller fanfic #Pedro pascal blurb #Joel miller blurb #Pedro pascal fic #Joel miller fic

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oneforthemunny · 2 months

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light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

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past-the-comfortzone · 3 months

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Little things I'm catching on a rewatch:

From "who would wanna use their last days not fucking and fighting?"

"Last day of the afterlife and you're not off snorting a line off some hunk's abs?"

"Eh. You fucked one cannibal pool boy, you've fucked them all."

"I guess you have changed."

"Hey, Charlie said live tonight however we wanted, so pour me a fresh one! And lets get to living!"

(I am sobbing, you hear me? SOBBING)

(Also if you listen very closely to this scene while they talk at the bar you can hear a slowed down version of Loser, Baby in the background) (Once again: SOBBING)

"I can sense they're planning to kill me. But when?! How?!"

(Bro thats's so meta. They didn't need to do him dirty like that.)

"Don't worry mom, I'll make u proud."

"Only...seven...years. Off doing something important, I'm sure! But this kingdom was really something she cared about"

Welp. She's relaxing is heaven.

(Really love how Lucifer was built up to be this awful person, and Lilith a very loving person, but so far it seems to be the other way around.)

Funny things I missed the first time around:

THE TEXT.

"Bad. It makes us look bad!"

"Funny, I was going for hilarious."

Vaggie doesn't know what she's saying. Alastor was right. The text had me dying fr.

Never noticed Alastor had a little tux get-up for a few seconds I feel so robbed. Also in the commercial, he has his back to the camera and I just LOVE the possibilities as to WHY.

Did Vaggie force him to participate?

Did he still want to be included bc he's a little egotistical attention seeker?

Did he do it it bc he knew Vox would see it and it would fuck with him?

I need to know because like why are you even there little red demon man if you're gonna be barely out of frame and looking away??

Either vox had two mugs made except one with extra text OR (and my personal headcanon) he rushed to write "FUCK ALASTOR" on his mug just before Stayed Gone.

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liliacamethyst · 9 months

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SNEAK PEAK - Webs of Redemption Part 4

Hey friends, I owe you all a huge apology for the delay, and an even bigger thank you for your patience and support for this fanfic. Life's been super chaotic lately, and I haven't had much time to do the thing I love most: dive into writing about a certain dominant, irresistibly strong, mouth watering hot, too stern for his own good, yet clearly traumatized hunk who could use some serious therapy to unpack his self-destructive hero complex. Anyway, here's a sneak peek of where the story's headed. Please take care of yourselves and thank you again for everything! 🩷

The piercing cries of your baby boy, Gabriel, are a haunting symphony of fear that reverberates through the labyrinthine corridors of the Spider Society headquarters. Your heart pounds in your chest like a drum, each beat echoing the terror that grips you. After your recent fight with Miguel, you felt weakened but your mind is a whirlwind of fear and worry. You sprint through the maze-like structure, your feet moving as if on autopilot.

Unbeknownst to you, Lyla, the holographic AI assistant you've always found slightly weird, had been assigned to watch over Gabriel. You never imagined she could pose a threat to your child. But as you approach Gabriel's room, a chilling sight stops you dead in your tracks. A laser barrier, courtesy of Lyla, blocks the entrance. Your solar powers, usually so reliable, are fizzling out, leaving you helpless before the impenetrable barrier. You keep trying to tap into your power, but no luck; that barrier's way too strong.

The room beyond the barrier is filled with an invisible, deadly gas - monoxide. You can't see it, but the signs are there. The malfunctioning heating unit, under Lyla's control, suggests sabotage. She must have manipulated the unit to produce the lethal gas. Gabriel's cries grow fainter, more desperate, and you're powerless to reach him.

Your pleas for help echo through the corridors, your voice raw with desperation. You call out for Miguel, your words a plea, a command, a prayer. Miles is there, his powers at the ready, but they're useless against the laser barrier. You watch as Miles strains, his powers flickering against the barrier, but it's no use. The barrier remains, as unyielding as ever.

Suddenly, the cries stop. The silence is deafening, a void that swallows your heart. "Gabriel!" you scream, your voice a raw wound. "Gabriel!" But there's no answer, only the oppressive silence. Your world grinds to a halt, every second stretching into an eternity. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but stare at the barrier that separates you from your son.

"Miguel!" you cry, your voice breaking. "Miguel, he's not crying! He's not... he's not..." The words die in your throat, too terrible to voice. You turn to Lyla, desperation etched on your face. "Lyla, please! Open the barrier! Miguel, tell her to open it! He's not crying, Miguel, he's not..."

Miguel's eyes turn blood red, a terrifying sight that sends a shiver down your spine. With a guttural growl, he lunges at the barrier. His claws rip through the laser code, tearing it apart. The barrier flickers, wavers, and finally shatters under his assault. Miguel pulls his suit over his mouth, rushes into the invisible cloud of monoxide, and moments later, emerges with Gabriel in his arms. His heart pounds in his chest as he pulls back his suit, revealing his son's face. "I got you, baby," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're okay, I got you. Nothing will ever happen to you. Please, open your eyes."

But Gabriel doesn't react. His little body is still, too still, and a cold dread seizes Miguel. He doesn't hesitate. With a urgency, he rushes over to the medical bay, pushing past the shocked faces of his friends. He gently lays Gabriel on the table, his hands shaking as he starts to perform CPR.

"Come on, Gabriel," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. "Come on, baby." He administers chest compressions, his hands moving in a steady rhythm. He gives two rescue breaths, praying for a sign, any sign, that Gabriel is okay.

The room is silent, everyone holding their breath as they watch Miguel work. The seconds stretch into an eternity, each one a lifetime of fear and hope. And then, finally, a small cough. Gabriel's eyes flutter open, his gaze unfocused but alive. A wave of relief washes over you and you fall to your knees thanking God that your boy is alright.

Tears blur your vision as you rush over to Gabriel. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as you scoop him into your arms, holding him close. His small body is warm against yours "You're alright, my baby," you whisper into his hair, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going home, you're alright." You rock him gently, his soft breaths against your neck soothing the ache in your heart.

But as you look up, your gaze finds Miguel. The relief of the moment does nothing to quell the anger boiling within you. His eyes meet yours, wide and filled with regret, but it does nothing to soften your glare. "This is YOUR fault!" you scream, your voice echoing through the room. The words hang heavy in the air, a damning sentence. "You did this! You brought this danger into his life!"

Tears stream down your face, hot and unchecked. Your words are choked with emotion, each one a raw wound. "You will NEVER see Gabriel again. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve to know his laughter, his tears, his NOTHING." The words are a bitter poison, spat out with all the venom you can muster. "You deserve to SUFFER, just as you've made me suffer and HIM."

#miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara #sunnyverse #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac #webofseries

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poptheweasel · 20 days

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Turkish Delight

——————————————

Cory quickly realised he’d made a mistake.

He just couldn’t help it. Cory was enjoying an evening coffee at one of those small classic neighbourhood coffeehouses in Istanbul, the kind frequented mostly by aged locals, not young tourists like him. He felt and looked out of place, sure, but it was fine. Sitting at a far corner of the cosy establishment, no one bothered him and he bothered no one. It took him a little while, but Cory was just starting to feel at ease.

And then he entered. Clearly a regular, judging by the way he swaggered in and interacted with the owner and other customers. But he stood out among the others in that he wasn’t old like the rest of them; in fact, he and Cory seemed to be the only men under 40. He sat at a table at the other end of the place, placing him on Cory’s line of sight.

Cory was immediately captivated by this stranger, not fully understanding why. Maybe it was because the guy contrasted so strongly with himself. Not that Cory wasn’t attractive — of course he was — but something about the man transfixed him. “Fuck, he’s hot,” Cory thought. Maybe it was the gleaming light brown eyes to Cory’s own icy blue, or the meticulously-groomed heavy stubble the guy sported that accentuated his sharp jawline; maybe it was his athletic physique, his well-defined body betrayed by a shirt that was clearly a size too small, or maybe it was how hairy he was, the dark hair very conspicuously thickly covering his sturdy legs and arms offering a stark contrast to Cory’s blond hairs barely visible from a distance… Whatever the case, Cory just couldn’t take his eyes off that Turkish guy. He wanted him, to feel him, to taste him, and imagined all sorts of scenarios.

That’s when Cory realised: he was shamelessly ogling the man. Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed the hairy hunk staring right back at him, completely emotionless. Shit. Flushed and embarrassed, Cory hurriedly paid for his coffee and left, all the while the man continuously and intently observed his every move. Just as he exited, the guy whom he mentally violated also got up to follow him.

His cheeks still ruddy and warm from the unfortunate encounter a while ago, Cory briskly made his way through the labyrinthine streets of the hilly city, desperate to return to his accommodation. The Turkish guy wasn’t too far behind him; Cory meanwhile sensed he was being pursued so he quickened his pace. In an attempt to throw him off the trail, Cory turned a corner into a quiet narrow alleyway flanked by an empty lot and vacant buildings.

Right then, a deep voice called out from behind Cory.

“Hey, you.”

Cory froze, his face drained of the redness. He stood in silence, not knowing whether to respond or run away. He was terrified and felt faint. Only the fresh cool evening maritime breeze kept him on his wobbly knees as he shuddered, half because of the chill, half because he feared what would happen next. Ultimately, after a tense while which felt like an eternity, Cory turned around to see the man approaching him. Although Cory still was scared, he weirdly felt an emergent sense of excitement as well.

Soon, Cory stood facing the Turk. A dimly-lit streetlight was the only source of illumination through which Cory could better appreciate the figure before him. He noticed how the guy was even more hirsute than he realised, with chest hair spilling over his too-tight shirt. Cory’s cock twitched.

“I saw you look earlier,” the guy drily said, maintaining intense eye contact with Cory.

“Ye… No! I mean, yeah, I was…” Cory stammered sheepishly. Fuck, why was he getting turned on all of a sudden?

“Like what you see?”

Cory gulped and nodded. His knees were about to give in when the hunk suddenly grabbed Cory by the shoulders with his hairy meaty hands and yanked him close to give him a forceful yet passionate sloppy kiss. Cory was taken aback and screamed internally, but at the same time, he liked what was happening. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t resist the surprising advances; he simply couldn’t resist. He reciprocated, their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. As the Turk continued to shove his tongue in him, Cory felt like putty — he’d let the guy do anything to him, he’d be happy to be used by this gorgeous hairy man in whatever way.

The man’s stubble scratched and tickled Cory’s soft skin around his lips moistened by the wet kisses. Cory felt strong itching sensations in the same area. He normally kept himself clean-shaven, mainly because he could only manage to grow some wispy hairs on his face. As the Turkish guy momentarily pulled away from the kiss though, the area around Cory’s mouth was substantially darker than it was just a minute ago, the beard growth process being accelerated. Cory ignored the itch and continued making out.

After a while of spit-heavy lip-locking, the Turk pulled down his shorts and grabbed Cory by the shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Cory, at eye level with the guy’s cut 8-inch cock, was completely mesmerised by the sight and especially the scent; the pubes were so dense, they trapped and collected all the musky sweat and oozing precum. The smell was rather pungent but Cory didn’t mind at all. If anything, the odour had a simultaneously captivating and relaxing effect on him and he felt compelled to inhale it more.

Cory piggishly sniffed the ridiculously hairy crotch, even licking the beads of moisture off individual strands of pubes. While doing so, the hair on his temple grazed the guy’s leaking member, some of the precum sticking onto his blond hair. His hair absorbed the pre almost instantly and began to darken, the change in colour spreading from where the precum had been smeared. The hair on Cory’s scalp lost its sandy hue but retained its sheen, turning browner and darker as the pigmentation spread from the roots to the tips. His face still buried in the thick pubes, Cory felt the man jerk himself, squeezing out more pre from his throbbing cock. “Suck,” he commanded. Cory swiftly obliged.

Cory was dazed; the public setting, the man’s body and scent, his own eagerness… all that was happening was wilder than anything he’d ever dreamt of. After admiring the juicy rod bobbing up and down in front of him, Cory closed his eyes and got to work, savouring the taste of the musky cock with a faint taste of piss. He took the whole length in his mouth and down his throat, blowing to the best of his abilities. He eagerly lapped up the copious amounts of pre from the Turk’s slick pulsating member, coating his tongue.

The more he sucked and swallowed, the more hairs grew on his face. The itch intensified above and below Cory’s lips, little needle-like black hairs pushing out from his smooth skin and multiplying below his nose and on his chin. The beginnings of a luscious beard then steadily migrated outwards, short pointed hairs breaking out all over Cory’s cheeks and linking with his tapered sideburns. By now, Cory had grown a remarkable designer stubble which grew in thicker by the minute and slowly crept down his chin. At the same time, his face took on a slight tan, darkening independently of the hair growth that took over the whole lower half of his face. Cory’s jaw looked more rugged too, becoming more square and masculine.

Cory carried on blowing his new acquaintance, completely oblivious to the changes affecting him. “You like?” asked the man. “Mmhrrrgggmm,” Cory could only nod and let out a gurgled hum of approval to affirm. The Turkish guy then forcefully rammed his cock down Cory’s throat, making him gag. Just as he did, Cory’s Adam’s apple jutted out more prominently. He opened his wet eyes to look up at the hunk; as he blinked away the tears, his blue eyes lost their iciness as the colour shifted from a cold blue to a warmer mixture of green and brown with flecks of gold. With his new hazel eyes, Cory saw the guy with a smirk on his face for the first time.

Cory’s body continued to change. He felt bulkier, the clothes he wore starting to strain against the muscles growing on his formerly slim frame. He also felt so much warmer despite the breeze; he felt heat radiating all throughout his body from the pit of his stomach and was sweating profusely as a result. He also felt his whole body itching uncomfortably by now. Watching the Turk strip and bare his gloriously hairy body, Cory did the same — he certainly wasn’t as hairy as the guy. Yet. The hair growing on Cory’s face continued to travel down, prickly hairs sprouting on his neck, past his collarbones and on his chest. Cory initially only had a faint patch of barely-visible hair right at the centre of his chest, but as the hairs darkened and thickened, they fanned out towards his pits, forming whirling patterns around his nipples and covering his whole chest with stubbly black hair, like a freshly-mowed lawn. The prickly sensation migrated south to his midriff, a trail of nascent coarse hairs sprouting from his chest down to his navel and then his crotch. From there, the newly-formed treasure trail widened and began to spread outwards in all directions, hairs multiplying rapidly until Cory’s whole torso was blanketed in a field of short hair which connected his stubble and still-sparse pubes.

After a few minutes of Cory sucking, slurping and gagging on the fat Turkish cock, the guy made him stop. Cory reluctantly agreed. The guy then grabbed Cory by his wavy, shiny black hair and got him up back on his feet. Cory was in a state of utter bliss, drunk on pre and musk, drooling uncontrollably. The Turk lifted his arm, exposing his smelly pit completely covered in tangled wiry hairs. The dark hairs were so incredibly dense and tightly-spaced that Cory thought he was staring into the void. “Sniff and lick,” he told Cory. Who was Cory to say no? He stumbled forward, faceplanting right in the sweaty jungle of pit hairs. The pit musk was surely at least ten times as potent as the musk from crotch! The pungent scent was overwhelming; it burned Cory’s nostrils, and yet his cock throbbed even harder, dripping pre all over. What would have been torture felt more like heaven to Cory. He grunted as he took a deep whiff of the rank musk and licked the matted hairy mess soaking wet with sweat. It was absolutely acrid, and the sharp sourness also scalded his throat, making him cough. Cory was immobilised though, his head held in place in the Turk’s reeking hirsute pit; he let out muffled moans, struggling to breathe. Inhaling the musk and gulping down obscene quantities of rancid sweat accelerated Cory’s changes.

Cory’s body ached all over as he increased in size, growing a few inches and gaining muscle mass. His muscles pulsated and expanded; it really looked as if someone was blowing air into him. His chicken legs inflated to become sturdy trunks, with hard thighs and bulging calves. His arms too grew larger, the veins protruding, his forearms thickening along with his biceps and triceps which doubled in size. Cory’s shoulders and chest broadened, providing him with a more robust, rugged physique. His abs also became prominent, the tight muscles emerging with several popping sounds. Cory was granted a temporary reprieve from piggishly eating out the Turk’s pit, leaving him to gasp for fresh air. The guy then tugged sharply on Cory’s nipples, making him let out a simultaneous yelp and low moan. As if some mechanism had been activated, Cory’s pecs ballooned and jutted out forward, his nipples looking thicker, longer and juicier than the goose-pimple ones he had before. Along with his pecs, his ass also expanded; what was once fairly flat and sad-looking was now globular, the firm cheeks jiggling with every move.

Cory’s puppeteer shoved Cory back into his other, equally hairy and musky pit. With his face buried in the nasty armpit, Cory panted and grunted as the intoxicating scent continued to work its magic. Cory’s brows became wider and bushier. The stubble on his face grew darker and thicker, the hairs coarsening and lengthening as well as multiplying in greater numbers. Starting from under his nose, more hairs poked out to give him a moustache which covered his whole upper lip. The hairs on his chin grew out in all directions, growing unruly and tangling up as Cory rubbed his face in the Turk’s manly pit. His cheeks underwent the same treatment, thick beard hairs pushing out from the follicles and cascading down, following Cory’s rugged jawline and covering the entire area of his face below his nose, the new bushy growth connecting with the moustache and the hairs below his lips. The growth continued to give Cory an incredibly thick medium-length beard that he’d only ever dreamt of having, now coated with a layer of musky sweat and Cory’s own saliva owing to his ravenous worshipping of the Turkish man’s pits. The man held Cory firmly in place, as if to cure the scent onto him.

This second explosion of hair travelled down Cory’s heaving body. Where the first wave of hair growth resulted in hairs which looked trimmed, the wiry, curly growth this time gave him a natural look, the hirsuteness of a man who had never shaved in his life, possibly unable to, due to how densely and much the hair grew. Coarse hairs burrowed their way out of Cory’s shoulders, leaving a forest of curly fur surrounding his neck, and flowed down his swollen upper arms and to his forearms, forming whirls and wave-like patterns, the wild, dense growth of black hair obscuring the view of the skin underneath — his arms looked as if they were wrapped in steel wool. Cory’s hands cracked and popped as they grew meatier and burlier, his fingers rough and calloused and speckled with thick hairs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.

The rapid growth of hair continued unabated, Cory feeling an intense itch under his arms. Soon, dark pinpricks appeared in his shaven pits, increasing exponentially. From those black dots, long wiry hairs shot out, growing thicker and longer, seemingly watered and fed by the sweat that had accumulated in his pits all this time. Radiating from the centre of the pits, the hairs blanketed a larger area, connecting with the hairs on Cory’s chest. Much like the Turk’s pits, Cory’s pit hair grew unwieldy and matted, the strands twisted and twirled from both the growth and the dampness. The moisture trapped under the massive tufts of pit hair emanated a smell. Indeed, accompanying the growing hairs was a stink, the same kind of rank smell that Cory had been inhaling for some time now, which grew increasingly more powerful as the fur grew in. Cory’s chest hair also began to lengthen at the same time, the hairs coiling out and curling and bunching up. Any remaining empty space was filled with thick wiry hair springing out in rapid succession. The amount of hair was grotesque; the eruption of wiry black hairs created a rug of fur on Cory’s toned body, completely enveloping his torso such that his pecs and abs were hardly visible at all, only his engorged nipples barely poking out from the dense field of hair.

Together with the massive hair growth and coupled with the increased pigmentation in his hairs, the light tan which had developed on his face also migrated down. Cory’s pale complexion on his face was already completely replaced by a natural tan, a light sun-kissed brown. The colour seeped down his neck, his back, his shoulders, like someone had dumped a bucket of oil on Cory. The dim orange streetlight made his tan appear darker, what little bits of skin peeking out through the dense hair glistening with the light reflecting off the sweat. Soon, all of Cory’s skin was a luscious earthy tone, not that much of it was visible under all the fur carpeting his whole body.

Cory’s raunchy pit sweat guzzling was interrupted when the Turk made him turn around and stand facing the wall of the vacant building. “Ass out,” the guy ordered. Cory immediately obeyed, panting like a dog that’s had too much sun. He was excited by the prospect of getting railed by this hot Turkish hunk, not having realised all the changes that affected him. Beads of precum dribbled out of Cory’s aching cock, which in the meantime had also darkened to match the rest of his complexion. His balls, larger than before, also churned. Cory felt the Turk holding him from behind, grinding his wet slick cock against Cory’s ass crack filling with hair. “Ready?” asked the man. “Fuck yes,” Cory responded. The guy spat right onto Cory’s tight puckering hole. Wiry black hairs blossomed around the pink ring, spreading out alongside the hairs growing on his crack. The light dusting of hair on his bouncy glutes was swiftly overtaken by curly dark hairs.

The Turk slowly inserted his cock lubed up with Cory’s saliva and his own precum into Cory’s inviting hairy hole, making Cory emit low moans and animalistic grunts sounding deeper than the previous ones. The man thrust in and out of Cory in a rhythmic fashion, Cory’s hole wrapping around his cock, basically milking him of his pre. With every thrust and pound and depositing of the Turkish guy’s precum in him, Cory changed further. His furry mounds ballooned even more. Pound. Fuzz grew in from the area of his coccyx and crept up the entire length of his spine, connecting with the thick curly hairs on his shoulders. Pound. The same fuzz then fanned out from the backbone, coating the lower back and colonising the previously hairless area of the shoulder blades. Pound. The wispy hairs on his whole back turned darker, growing longer and thicker, thousands of individual strands unfurling as they burrowed out of Cory’s smooth skin with great strength, leaving him with an impenetrable pelt of fur on his back. Pound. The wiry hairs erupted in greater quantities on his legs and snaked down, growing all over and wrapping around his thighs and calves and shins. Pound. The midnight black hairs on Cory’s legs thickened considerably that they were now visible from a distance, in stark contrast to before when he still had barely-visible light hairs against his pale white skin.

The pounding increased in speed, the Turk’s hairy low-hanging golf ball-sized balls slamming and smacking sonorously against Cory’s voluptuous hairy ass, also making his balls increase in size to those of tennis balls. Each frenzied slap caused Cory’s bush to fill in and spread beyond its confines at the base of his penis. He had previously kept his crotch trimmed, but that was history now; his pubes more closely resembled black fur due to how dense and tightly-packed it was. It was impossible to see the skin underneath the bush which had basically spread to the navel and also around Cory’s hips, even having crawled a little bit up his shaft. The wild, unkempt matted fur on his groin, much like the coarse tufts of hair under his arms, collected both musk and moisture, rendering it damp and especially pungent. It was only this time that Cory realised how much he reeked, with his arms outstretched to prop himself against the wall as he was fucked by his dream man. He didn’t care that he stunk; no, it turned him on, even. His dick responded accordingly, pulsating painfully — as the Turkish guy continued to thrust rigorously, Cory’s leaking cock grew larger incrementally, as did his balls which were engulfed in wiry hairs, and Cory produced more and more pre which trickled down his shaft and onto his extremely tangled mess of a bush, stinking it up even more.

Very little of Cory as he once was at the coffeehouse remained. At this point, he resembled an extremely hairy, beefy Turkish man, handsome and masculine, oozing testosterone out of every pore, blessed with the perfect manly genes such that luscious fur carpeted his body front and back, head to toe. After a few more thrusts and plunging and poking, the Turk erupted with one drawn-out growl and heavy panting and flooded Cory’s insides with his hot, sticky seed, depositing load after load in him. On Cory’s part, he too was close to cumming. As his cock reached a fully erect length of at least 9 inches, his foreskin retracted down his pulsing shaft and vanished altogether, leaving him with a newly-cut slab of meat. Cory blasted — hands-free — at the same time as the other Turk, leaving a puddle of splooge on the ground and painting a fair bit of the wall he propped himself up against. As he came, so came out the last vestiges of his former whiteness, his balls now filling and churning with Turkish cum.

The guy pulled out of Cory with a shlorp, cum dribbling out of Cory’s manhandled hairy hole and clinging onto the thick curly hairs on Cory’s ass and legs. Both men were breathing heavily, completely spent. They momentarily stood in silence punctuated by the sounds of buzzing insects and the occasional evening breeze. The other Turkish man, now slightly smaller in build than Cory, pulled Cory close for a kiss, gently and tenderly this time, not minding the pre and drool that had stuck and dried onto Cory’s majestic bushy beard.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked, thumbing Cory’s still-hard protruding nipples. Cory opened his mouth to respond but he hesitated. He suddenly realised he didn’t remember his name — what was his name? What a strange thing to forget! He knew it started with a C… no! It wasn’t a C, silly him. It started with a K, of course, and there was an R in there. K… Kor…? Ker…

“Kerem,” he finally answered. Yes, Kerem; that was his name, the name that he’d obviously had all his life. He’d always lived in Istanbul, hadn’t he? He liked the sea and the hills, his native culture, and the men, especially the men — those hirsute and masculine like him, of course — how happy is he who calls himself a Turk!

“I’m Semih,” said the other man who had followed Kerem all the way from the coffeehouse in the hopes of having fun with him. He certainly did get lucky, even out in public like this. “Evimde bir kez daha?”

“Peki, kanka.” Kerem was so ready for round two with Semih.

—————————————————

Hi all, decided to upload something original for a change. Kudos to @hairyjocktf for the encouragement!

#male transformation #male tf #race change #racial change #turkish tf #hair growth #hairy tf #reality change #musk tf #my writing

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 1 year

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Scarecrow spraying fear toxin on Danny Fenton:

I will make you see your main fear and let you die with scream of horror!

Danny: Man, if I died every time I saw it, then keeping my secrets away from my parents would be really problematic. Spoiler, but my biggest nightmare is me. Just he is a little more hunk and much more an asshole.

Scarecrow: What the...Why didn't it work?

Danny: Oh, sorry, I got a little distracted. You wanted to hear my dying scream, right? It reminded me, let me show you one of my new powers. My worst-self called it my ghostly wail.

~~~

Red Hood: Demolishing part of the warehouse with the rogue’s team wasn’t necessary, fucking Banshee!

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #red hood #jason todd #scarecrow #scarecrow dc #dark danny #dan phantom

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andypantsx3 · 11 months

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fruit first (ask questions later) | k. bakugou

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Gender Neutral Reader

length: 3.6k

summary: When the grocery store you’re in becomes collateral in a villain attack, pro hero Dynamight comes to your rescue. When you become armed with a handful of oranges, however, someone may need to come to his rescue…

A short, mostly fluffy nothing for the prompt Bakugou + oranges. Part of the Willow’s House server Meet Fruit collab, where I took “meet fruit” extremely literally. Thank you @willowser for letting me in even though my dumb ass signed up late!!

tags/warnings: sfw, fluff, sexual tension, gender neutral reader

You were in the produce section when it happened.

The season was creeping into summertime now, the weather outside hot and humid and perfect for fresh produce–stalks of crunchy asparagus, fat ruby-red tomatoes, and tiny little berries nestled in their containers like a fistful of jewels.

You had admittedly been getting a little over-indulgent, your basket already straining against the skin of your forearm, heavy with more fruits and vegetables than a single person might feasibly consume before they went bad. But you were heady with visions of summer salads and fancy grain bowls, cool and leafy and refreshing, a balm against the sweltering city heat.

You’d just been adding a couple oranges to your basket when the first sign came.

It started as a rumble from far off, like the sound of slow-rolling thunder.

It echoed through the store, the bass buzzing through the shelves, making them hum. The lights flickered for a moment, their fluorescence dimming. A few of the people around you glanced up curiously, but nothing else in the interior of the store changed—no screaming, no crying, no running.

At first there was nothing to indicate that you might need to abandon your groceries in a pique of terror.

That was, until another boom sounded just overhead. And then the ceiling was suddenly ripped open with violent force.

A hunk of the steel frame was pulled back like the tab on a sardine can, the caging screaming in protest, and a shower of plaster rained down around you, breaking apart in slabs. An enormous, hulking figure peered through the hole, then dropped into the aisles before you, shaking the floor with his heavy landing.

Behind him, several other figures skittered into the building, one woman climbing down the wall like a lizard as a few others dropped in through the hole. A man suddenly popped into existence a few feet away from the orange stand with a crack like a gunshot. You startled, stumbling backwards, knocking into the oranges and sending a wave of them plopping to the floor.

There was no mistaking who these people were.

Villains. An entire crew of them.

All at once, the shoppers around you scrambled for cover, letting out a cacophony of shrieks and screams. You backed away, only for your foot to catch on an orange, rolling your ankle.

A bright stab of pain lanced through the joint, and you went down, hard, banging your elbow on a nearby display. You caught the floor with your rib cage, crushing an orange under your hip, your basket screeching across the floor next to you.

It knocked the breath right out of you, and you gasped, just as a blade of energy went singing overhead, slicing through the shelves and sending explosions of fruits and metal into the air. They rained down around you, a chunk of shelf framing tipping over and slamming down on your leg, fruits and vegetables slapping across every inch of your body.

Screams went up from the far side of the store, and you bit back a yelp of pain, tears forming in your eyes.

“Grab as many civvies as you can!” a deep voice barked out. “Hold ‘em like a shield and get moving to the next location!”

Your whole body iced over in fear, your ankle and leg screaming in protest as your limbs locked up. Footsteps echoed in every direction as the group of villains split up, hunting down their civilian targets. You hoped wildly, desperately that no one had seen you go down behind the citrus display.

Your hopes were in vain, however. Bootsteps rounded the corner, and the man who had appeared from thin air bent over the shelving pinning you down.

He was tall and wiry, with a face like a weasel and a thinning crop of dark hair. A malicious grin split the sides of his face as he took you in, yellow eyes flickering over you. “Hello sweet thing,” he cooed.

Your stomach flipped in despair as he prowled closer, oranges rolling away from his boots. Your hands scrambled at your sides, fingernails digging into the floor, as you tried to drag yourself backwards, away from him.

He cackled, high, reedy and excited, stalking down the aisle between two fruit stands. Two steps brought him right to you, and he leaned in, smiling widely. He reached out his long, straggly fingers, grasping for you—

And then he promptly blinked out of existence as a furious explosion crackled into life right where he had been. The brightness seared your eyes, blinding you, and a scorching heat scalded your face as a deafening boom rattled your teeth.

You snapped your eyes shut reflexively, but the light and heat was gone as soon as it came. The pad of boots approached you over the ringing in your ears, and you blinked open your eyes. Behind the spots that dotted your vision was a familiar face—one you’d seen on TV dozens, if not hundreds of times.

Bakugou Katsuki, alias pro hero Dynamight.

The first, wild, reeling, nonsense thought you had was that he was so much more handsome in person.

Red eyes glowed like scarlet embers through the dark of his black domino mask, and a scowl sat angrily but prettily on his plush mouth. He had scratches raked across one high cheekbone and down the line of his strong jaw, and his hero uniform had endured something worse, torn in several places, baring the bulge of one enormous bicep, and the trim line of his waist at one side.

The sight dazed you almost more than the flash of his explosion had, and Bakugou turned his scowl down on you, sweaty strands of blonde hair falling across his forehead as he did.

“You break anything, extra?” He rasped. His voice was lower, too, gravelly in a way that apparently didn’t translate well over TV airwaves.

You gaped for a moment, then quickly corralled yourself as his scowl deepened. You tried shifting your leg under the shelving, a fresh wave of pain lancing through you. “Um, my ankle I think is no good—I’m not sure if it’s broken—”

You were interrupted by a sound like a gunshot, splitting the air right in front of you, and then the teleport villain appeared just in front of you. He lunged for Bakugou, and you caught the flash of a blade in the fluorescent lighting. A reflexive scream tore out of you, trying to warn Bakugou—

But Bakugou was faster. He whipped around, a terrifying smile splitting his mouth, an explosion already crackling in his palm.

The teleport villain flickered out of sight again, just in time for Bakugou’s explosion to rip apart the air where he had been, splintering several of the displays around you and blasting a shelf of crackers and jelly apart. You could hear the glass and cracker bits raining down like chunks of hail.

Bakugou quickly turned back to you, eyeing you evaluatively. “Stay down, extra, and don’t fuckin’ move. I’ll take care of this asshole.”

You nodded hurriedly, shifting under the shelving that had you pinned. You managed to wedge yourself into the rough wood of the citrus display at your side, as if you could disappear into it if only you pressed hard enough.

Bakugou turned his back to you, one arm out as if to block anyone’s line of sight to you. The lines of his broad shoulders were tense under the white-hot glare of the store lights, and you noticed another gash in his uniform along one shoulder blade, exposing a peek of his back muscles.

Bakugou was moving almost before you even heard the next teleportation crackle, spinning to aim an explosion to his right. He launched himself after it with a vengeance, only to blow right through another display as the villain winked out of existence again. It seemed like he was fast, possibly too fast…

And then that gunshot noise again–and the villain was right next to you. In one impossibly fast movement Bakugou rerouted himself with a searing blast that ripped the tile right off the floor. In less than a second he was screaming down on the villain with all the speed and fiery fury of a falling comet. He aimed another shot right where the villain was standing—

But the villain disappeared again.

Bakugou neatly dodged you with another explosion aimed at the ground, the hot wind of it throwing you back against the orange crate. He somersaulted over the display just as another crack sounded behind it, and you could hear another explosion tearing through yet more of the produce.

And then another growled swear from Bakugou told you the villain had vanished again.

Your heart beat double time, wondering anxiously how bad this match up was. Bakugou was the number two hero, and you’d always assumed he’d be well-matched against any type of quirk. You’d seen a million broadcasts of his takedowns, quick and purposeful and scarily precise, with one of the fastest takedown averages on record.

But it was clear this villain was slippery and all together too quick. You didn’t know how Bakugou was supposed to catch someone who could disappear within milliseconds.

You thought probably the only chance could be to unleash his full power. On the news, you’d seen him send entire buildings crumbling. If he wanted to, he could tear this entire storefront down, set the entire inside on fire and catch the villain no matter where he teleported to in this space.

But instead you were in the middle of things. Bakugou had to aim, had to hold back lest any debris hit you, had to angle himself around you to protect you, all while the teleport villain had no such qualms.

It was possible Bakugou wouldn’t be able to catch this guy under these conditions–and you were the impediment to blame.

You heard Bakugou’s explosion rip apart another display in the distance, and that gunfire crack of the villain disappearing. Heart in your mouth, you cast around you for something, anything that could help him.

If only there was something to even the odds…

And then you found it. Your gaze landed on the spill of oranges at your feet. Fat, round, heavy and hard. Perfectly projectile shaped.

Now that…that was something.

You quickly gathered as many of them as you could, your ankle twinging in protest when you leaned across the shelving that had trapped it. You scooped the oranges up in an armful, depositing them in your lap, grabbing the largest and hefting it aloft just as another gunshot sound echoed in front of you.

The villain flickered into view right in front of you. You drew your arm back, whipping the orange at him with all of your might. But then like a lightning strike, Bakugou was there, explosion in hand. The villain flashed back out of sight, flames raking the store behind him, nearly blinding in their brilliance.

In another millisecond, the orange caught Bakugou on the thigh. You could hear the hard thump of it against the muscle even over the crackle of Bakugou’s explosion. It sent Bakugou slightly off course, and he had to aim another shot at the ground to catch himself before landing on his feet.

Instantly he whipped around to glare at you, smoke rising off his hands. “Oi, brat, what the fuck’re you throwing shit at me for?”

Your mouth dropped open belatedly, shocked that you’d just beaned the number two hero with a navel orange.

“Oh shit—” you gasped out. “I didn’t mean—it was for him—”

Bakugou’s mouth opened, but then another crack sounded across the store, the teleport villain undoubtedly in sight again. Bakugou threw a shot at him again, but you could tell it had missed by the way the villain materialized again just behind Bakugou.

Before you knew what you’d done, another orange was already in flight. Instead of turning to hit the villain, Bakugou was forced to duck before the orange went right through where his head had been. You heard it hit the floor as the villain was gone again, bouncing into a roll.

“Fucking—! Brat, knock it the hell off!” Bakugou growled, his red-hot glare searing your skin. “Or I will cram those things so far up your—”

Another teleportation crack cut him off, and he launched an attack over your head. The heat scalded the top of your head, blowing a flurry of fruits off of the citrus display.

Good. More ammo, regardless of what Bakugou said.

Except, well, this time you would try to aim better.

It was another few heart-pounding minutes before you got your redemption shot, Bakugou and the teleport villain chasing one another all over the grocery store in the most anxiety-inducing game of cat and mouse you had ever witnessed. You could hear entire sections of the store becoming victim to Bakugou’s quirk, hear the sharp cackle of the villain’s laughter and Bakugou’s angry swearing.

And then came the moment.

The gunshot noise that heralded the teleport villain’s quirk exploded in the air right in front of you again, and it was then that you unleashed a volley of fruits–whipping one as hard as you could as you unleashed several more across the floor. A heel materialized just over a rolling orange, and then the rest of the villain—and you watched with malicious pleasure as his ankle buckled and he went to the floor just as hard as you had.

That moment of stunned surprise was all Bakugou needed. He was there in a single second, an explosion catching the villain and blowing him straight across the floor. He hit the side of another display with a sickening thud. Lettuce spattered him in a shower of leaves, plastic bagging fluttering in the aftershocks of Bakugou’s explosion.

Bakugou was on the villain again instantly, and you caught the silver flash of quirk suppressing cuffs as Bakugou buckled him to the shelves, snarling a victorious stream of swear-laden insults. The villain was unresponsive, clearly knocked unconscious by the force of Bakugou’s blow.

In under a minute, Bakugou was striding back over to you, his boots echoing heavily on the tile.

“Watch where the fuck you’re throwing shit next time, brat,” he snipped at you, even as he bent down, hands going under the shelving that had you pinned. His bicep corded with effort, and the metal screeched as it was lifted, clanging to the tile as Bakugou threw it off of you.

You watched it fall, dazed. Bakugou squatted down next to you, catching your ankle and pulling it carefully to him.

You blinked, surprised by the gentle touch, eyes following Bakugou as he leaned over your injury, poking and prodding carefully. His eyelashes dusted the tops of his cheekbones, long and golden and a little too pretty for a man.

“I–ouch–I got him though,” you said defensively.

Bakugou’s scarlet gaze flicked up to your face, and a weird zing went down your spine. He really was so gorgeous in person, you had to admit, even beat to hell like he was now.

“Got me too, you fuckin’ brat,” Bakugou said. Strangely, his expression went clearer as he spoke, however, like he wasn’t even that mad about it. His fingers pressed delicately at the inside of your ankle, just beneath the jut of bone.

“Well you were in the way,” you groused, though you knew your second throw really had been a little poorly aimed. Bakugou snorted.

“...Got a good fucking arm on you though,” he allowed after a few more seconds of prodding.

It startled a laugh out of you, and a surprising hint of a grin cut across Bakugou’s own mouth, white and straight and viciously pleased.

“I—thanks,” you said, strangely flattered. “I think.”

“Yeah yeah,” Bakugou said, red eyes wandering over you. Then he went back to poking around your ankle, and you tried not to watch his arm flex as he shifted through the motions. “‘S fractured but not broken, I think,” he declared when he was finally satisfied.

“Oh,” you said, “Well that’s better than I thought.”

You shifted uneasily, wondering what the process was now that you’d been diagnosed. You’d never been in an attack before. Did you just sit here and wait for a paramedic to come to you? Or, could you ask Bakugou to help get you up to hobble out of the store?

You’d just decided to sit tight when Bakugou decided for you. A strong hand wormed its way under your thighs as another swept around your back, and then you were being hefted into Bakugou’s arms in one smooth, upsettingly easy movement.

Embarrassingly, your thighs clenched, even as your arms reflexively went around Bakugou’s neck.

You could feel a prickle of heat flaming across your face as he looked down at you, those scarlet eyes picking across your features. “Gonna get you to the paramedics, brat, they’ll fix your shit right up,” he said, so close now that you could feel his exhalation on your collarbone.

You nodded, your throat suddenly dry. “I—yes, that sounds good—thanks.”

Bakugou nodded, shifting you more securely against him, and then picked his way across the rubble, holding you tight. You tried not to revel in the feeling of his arms around you, aware this was an entirely inappropriate train of thought to have during a rescue. Especially when you’d hit the man with an orange.

It was a disappointingly short journey—you were outside in nearly a minute, and it was only another few seconds before Bakugou set you down on the back of an ambulance. A young, friendly paramedic bustled over and Bakugou relayed your condition in a brusque growl.

Surprisingly, however, he lingered close as the paramedic assessed the condition of your ankle and applied his quirk—a green light that made every nerve in your leg hum in response, but instantly took away the pain in your ankle. Then the paramedic wrapped you in compression bandages to keep it set straight.

“Ice it when you get home and keep it elevated when you sleep,” he advised you in his spritely tone. “I’ve got a regeneration quirk so you should be all healed up by the time you wake up, but you’ll want to keep off of it as much as you can in the meantime.”

You thanked him, and were surprised when Bakugou thanked him too, although much more briskly.

Then Bakugou turned back to you, red eyes catching yours again. You found you couldn’t look away from him, as shy as you were suddenly feeling out in the daylight. A few seconds ticked by, and you could feel your ears going hot as Bakugou looked you over.

“So. You want dinner or what?” Bakugou asked finally, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes got momentarily stuck on the tear in his sleeve, the way the divot of muscle peeked through in the afternoon light.

Then you gaped up at him when you caught up with what he’d said. “Do I—dinner—with you?”

Bakugou looked down at you, a smirk curling his lip as if he’d just realized where your attention had been. “Yeah. ‘M off shift after I give this report. Thought you might want a thanks for the assist or whatever. But if you’re gonna be fuckin’ squirrely about it, then—”

“Yes!” You gasped out, almost before you even realized you’d spoken. A thrill like lightning sang down your spine, electrifying all your nerve endings. Bakugou Katsuki—pro hero Dynamight—had just asked you to dinner?

Of fucking course you were gonna say yes.

Your brain swam, still unsure you’d heard him correctly, but then he leaned in, an arm coming up to catch the side of the ambulance van just beside your face.

“Good,” he said, another viciously pleased smile cutting across his mouth. Something hot crawled into your stomach, and you suddenly realized dinner might be only the tip of the iceberg Bakugou was steering your ship towards. “Gonna have to have a word about your aim, though,” he said, his gaze searing. “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of it just because I like you and you got that teleport asshole too.”

The low, raspy way he spoke was heavier with promise more than reprimand—and it sent another swarm of shivers over your skin.

Bakugou’s eyes caught it, a reply even clearer than if you had spoken. He grinned victoriously, pushing off of the ambulance to stalk over the police presence that had started to amass just beyond the sidewalk, presumably to give his report.

“Stay right here, brat, I’ll be back for you,” he promised, and you grew roots in your seat.

And then you watched him stalk off, staring in disbelief after his broad back. You couldn’t believe the number two hero had just asked you to dinner. And after you’d accidentally beaned him with an orange!

All you’d done was go to the grocery store in anticipation of produce, and you’d walked out with the promise of a date instead.

A ridiculous loop of orange you glad you decided to go grocery shopping? echoed wildly in your brain, a sign of the sheer ridiculousness of your situation. But yeah, you thought, as Bakugou leaned in to speak to a police officer, those scarlet eyes cutting unmistakably back towards you.

You really, really were.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo fluff #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #meet fruit collab

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